Lover I Don't Have To Love
by Dr FooFoo
Summary: Sometimes Nick just needs to unwiiind. [NickGreg]


Title: Lover I Don't Have To Love  
Author: Dr FooFoo  
Rating: R  
Warnings: shameless pwp?  
Feedback: Review or e-mail (in profile)  
Notes: I like it when I'm listening to a song and suddenly the lyrics just click together like a puzzle and it all makes sense. That's kinda what happened here.  
Notes2: This is probably set in like... late season three, before Play With Fire.

* * *

There are some days that Nick loves his job. Those are usually the days when the case is quick and easy to wrap up, and justice is served. Days like those make all the hard times and the loneliness worth it. Except Nick's not so sure of that, because there are other days, more often than the good days, that are horrible and tragic and Nick doesn't know how he keeps from breaking down in the middle of the lab most of the time. 

Of course, everyone else feels it too, and everyone's affected by the stuff they all deal with on a daily basis. All the death and tears. How Brass manages to pass on the terrible news to so many people is still beyond Nick and often, he's reminded of why he switched from the police department to the crime lab. At least there are less living people to deal with in his line of work.

Then again, Nick's always kind of been a people person. He's sensitive to other people's feelings - or he'd like to think so. More so than Sara or Grissom, for example. He'd even go so far as to say he likes people, when they're alive. He needs them to stay sane. And maybe it's that need that drives him to The Tangerine tonight, because hey, the place is _packed_ with people. Living, breathing, sweating, dancing people. And that's all Nick needs.

He probably wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he has to escape every so often, and the nightlife may not be the most obvious approach, but it's the road he likes to travel. He figures dancing until he can't feel his feet anymore, and ending up at a random trick's apartment is a much better decision than doing something stupid like getting addicted to some substance. Besides, the lab does routine drug tests on all its employees and they don't exactly pass out a survey asking about sexual orientation, so Nick figures his way is the safe way.

Then again, maybe it's not so safe, because as he's leaning by a door sipping a Budweiser, he spots a familiar shock of brown and blond in the crowd. It's only for a second but before he knows what he's doing, Nick's moving forward into the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor. He soon catches up with the hair and stares without a sound. The guy in front of him is dancing with himself, but he could have fooled anyone; grinding against the air and twirling his hands above his head. When he finally spins around, Nick sucks in a breath as his suspicions are confirmed.

"Sanders?" he yells over the thumping music, and Greg opens his eyes. Without missing a beat, a slow smirk spreads over his face as he continues to sway in front of Nick. He's so damn sensual in everything he does and Nick can't help but let his eyes travel over every inch of Greg's body. Greg smiles again in response and Nick feels the old Texan blush spread up into his ears and he hates that he's so predictable.

"Didn't expect to see _you_ here..." Greg says and Nick practically has to lean in and read his lips to understand what he's saying. Greg leans forward too, and Nick feels like his cheeks are going to burst into flame any second, so he pulls back quickly. Greg seems to take that as an invitation, however, because he takes a step and reaches his arms up around Nick's neck, pulling his face in and resting his forehead against Nick's.

All Nick can do is stare at Greg's big brown eyes, because that's all that's visible and he definitely never thought he'd ever be seeing Greg from this angle. Not that he's never thought about it, because he has, though he'd absolutely never admit that. In fact, Greg's the reason Nick doesn't lose it on those hard days. Greg's always happy, or he seems like it anyway, and he's contagious. So contagious, in fact, that Nick's lately started to make excuses to go into the DNA lab as often as possible.

Warrick's called him on it a couple times and he can't miss those questioning looks from Sara, but he always rationalizes, saying he forgot his glasses, or he needs to pick up an old sample. Greg doesn't seem to mind the constant visits, though, and maybe he even welcomes them, because he's grinding slow circles against Nick's crotch and Nick's eyes flutter closed. He gives in eventually and lets his hands find their way up Greg's back. Greg leans into the touch and Nick thinks he's going to pass out.

He certainly never expected this to happen, and it doesn't help that people have moved in around them, pressing close and Nick lets himself move with the entrancing flow of the mob. Greg leans into him, resting his head on Nick's shoulder, and wraps his arms around Nick's waist. Nick has a sudden flash of awkward conversations at work tomorrow, and strange looks from his coworkers, and he even takes a second to try and tell himself to just stop dancing and leave the club, but then Greg shifts slightly, hardon against Nick's thigh apparent through two pairs of jeans, and he knows he can't stop now.

The song picks up its pace and Greg pulls back for a second, eyeing Nick with a strange, dark expression, and Nick's breath catches in his throat. He knows what Greg wants, but the break room image flashes back into his mind and he hesitates a second, trying to get his thoughts in order. Greg seizes the opportunity and grabs Nick's hand, glancing quickly at him before stepping away and weaving him through bodies and off the dance floor.

Nick doesn't have time to think before Greg's hailed a cab and he can't feel himself moving, but he must be, because the taxi ride's a blur of anxious, sloppy kisses, and light, tentative touches.

Nick has no idea how it happened, but soon, he finds himself shifting impatiently outside Greg's apartment, watching him fumbling with keys, and he doesn't really mean to, but his hands run strange patterns along Greg's back, and when they slip under his shirt, the door finally opens and they tumble through. Immediately, Greg turns around and presses himself to Nick, merging lips and giving into curious hands. Nick shivers and he can't keep his eyes open, but he doesn't really care because he doesn't need to see to know what Greg has in mind.

And soon, all suspicions are confirmed when Greg sinks to his knees in front of Nick, running his fingers along sexlines, and god, Nick didn't even know his waist was so erogenous. Greg knew though, which should probably worry Nick more than it does. He doesn't have time to think about how many people Greg's slept with, though, because in a couple moments, Greg's gotten Nick's jeans worked open and his boxer-briefs are at his knees.

Nick will admit he's spent a lot of time watching Greg; staring, even, at his entire body, especially his mouth. But if he knew how good those lips would feel all over his overheated skin, and finally, finally on his cock, he would have asked for this a long time ago. Fingers tangle in short, spiky hair as hands clutch at every available body part; Nick's hands on the back of Greg's head, and Greg's hands all over Nick's stomach and thighs... Nick's surprised his legs haven't given out yet, and he's tempted to suggest they move to a horizontal surface, but he just can't bring himself to ask Greg to stop.

Greg can probably sense Nick's desperation, because he's working his tongue like it's going out of style and Nick has to let go of Greg's hair to grip the doorknob so he doesn't melt down the wall. He gasps a string of Greg-related words that probably don't make sense, but he's beyond caring, because long before he's ready, he's arching off the wall and coming hard without warning.

Greg pulls back and stands up, swallowing and wiping his mouth with a smirk and his sleeve. It takes Nick a few minutes to come to, but when he does, his knees are weak and his vision's blurry. Greg takes his hand and pulls him down the hall in a way reminiscent of the nightclub, but Nick's not complaining. Well, he's not doing much of anything except following and trying not to trip over his own pants. They pass a large fish tank and Nick's never seen so many bright colours at once, except maybe on one of Greg's t-shirts, and he'll have to ask if that's where Greg gets his inspiration for style.

He laughs a little at that thought, but Greg leans in and kisses him hard and they're in the bedroom suddenly. Nick never would have guessed Greg as a dark blue kind of guy... maybe bright yellow or orange, or even green, but as much as he'd like to wonder about Greg's decorating skills, he's very distracting and Nick finds himself pushing Greg backwards onto the bed, which is just a mattress on a springboard. That, Nick could have guessed.

Greg's more aggressive in bed than Nick would have imagined, and just a hint of desperate, but Nick kind of likes it, because he's used to being completely in control, and it's somewhat of a nice change. Nick grinds his hips in a small circle and breathes hard against Greg's neck, mumbling something about the overabundance of clothes still on them both. It's all quiet and nonsensical, though, but Greg must understand, because he undoes his jeans expertly and arches up into Nick to get them down to his ankles, while Nick pushes up on his shirt.

Greg doesn't seem to want to be completely naked, however, so Nick compromises by settling himself between Greg's legs and running his hands wherever they can reach. Greg's skin is addictive; Nick can't get enough of touching him, and he definitely knows that tomorrow, work's going to be torture, but he's way too fargone to care, and Greg's moaning softly and staring up at Nick with huge, dark eyes under long lashes, and...

God.

Then Nick feels hands on his back and ass and they trail lines around to his crotch. Nick feels the cold plastic wrapper before he hears Greg ripping it open and before he knows what's happening, Greg's sheathed him in a condom and he's pressing inside with a low moan. Greg arches up under him and he's running his hands along Nick's back again, and Nick's still way back at the condom part and wondering if maybe he's died and gone to heaven, because that's certainly what it feels like. But he doesn't have much time to think about it, because Greg starts moving, hooking his legs around Nick's hips and pulling him deeper.

Nick arches and his eyes roll to the back of his head when Greg scratches light red lines across his shoulder blades. He can't keep his mouth closed and sex with Greg is apparently the only thing that makes him completely unaware of what he's saying, because he's almost positive he's muttering admissions of love, but he can't be sure. Greg's smirking slightly, though, if that's any indication, and Nick leans down to cover that smirk with his own lips. Nick's never been kissed the way Greg kisses him - all tongue and lips and clash of teeth - and he doesn't think he'll ever be able to kiss anyone else without thinking of this.

Greg's arms tighten around Nick when he shifts slightly and he breaks away from the hail of kisses to take a shaky breath and let out a long, quiet moan. Nick's still not thinking straight as he leans down and sucks a mark high on Greg's neck. If he thinks about it later, he'll probably remember that Greg will most definitely show it off at the lab and that'll get a few stares, but for now, Nick's more than content with thrusting and gripping and leaving finger-shaped bruises all over Greg's body where no one will see.

Quite suddenly, Greg writhes and arches under Nick, holding him close with one arm and Nick's not sure where his other hand went, but when he feels warm wetness against his stomach, he guesses pretty quickly, and moans loudly into Greg's neck. But Greg's not finished until Nick's finished, and stars flash in front of Nick's eyes when Greg speeds up his rocking, whimpering every time he meets Nick's thrusts.

It's not long before Nick's babbling again, fingernails digging into Greg's hips, and he's not sure, but he might be mumbling Greg's name over and over as he comes for the second time tonight, just as hard as the first time, and god, he thought he was too old for this, but apparently not. He pulls out of Greg and rolls over onto the mattress next to him, panting quickly and fighting to catch his breath. He subconsciously feels Greg peeling the condom off him and leaving the bed, but in a couple of minutes, the mattress sinks again and Nick's still out of breath.

Greg presses himself to Nick, curling slightly and propping himself up on one elbow, and Nick cracks his eyes open slightly to peer up at him. No one says anything for a long time, and Nick almost closes his eyes again to just listen to the sound of Greg breathing, but he knows he'll probably fall asleep if he does that, and he's not sure Greg would like that...

"Love's just an excuse to get hurt, Nick..." Greg says softly and almost with a hint of remorse, and where did that come from? Then Nick remembers his babbling and his ears redden suddenly, but he knows what he wants and he doesn't even stop and hesitate before leaning in to breathe on Greg's neck and murmur into his skin.

"Then... hurt me."


End file.
